Celebration of the Winter Veil
by cepaul518
Summary: COMPLETED Christmas day! A little holiday ficlet :D Many believed he might have some night elf blood in him, just enough to slightly soften his features. Or perhaps he simply knew proper grooming techniques...
1. Chapter 1

Ticonderoga sought out her favorite place to sit - the middle of the middle of the amphitheatre. About halfway up and directly in front of the risen wooden stage. This was the best place, because when the bonfire was lit in the center of the arena, its hearthy blaze cast a golden glow onto the performers. She, like so many of the other cooing fangirls streaming into the theatre, quite fancied one of the feature entertainers.

Jul'zad was a well-known Troll musician and dancer. It was his practice to make trips to the far reaches of war-torn territories to entertain soldiers and boost morale. However, tonight's tour landed him in Orgrimmar to be a part of the Winter Veil celebrations. His specialties ranged from traditional folk songs and exotic renditions to accompanying tribal dances. His shows were always a treat, and hundreds of Orcs, Trolls, Tauren, and Undead had flocked to get their tickets the moment they heard the news of him coming to town.

He sat behind the stage out of view and strummed his_ nyckelharpa_, an instrument similar to a violin, then slung it about his neck to tune it. He was looking forward this performance; his holiday shows always had the largest audiences, which meant more gold when the hat was passed. He scraped his rough fingernails over the strings made of coarse zhevra hair and cringed at the flat tune. Perhaps a little more adjustment was needed. He rosined his bow and slowly pulled it across the filaments.

The Seven Dwarves Comedy Group opened the show with a hilarious sketch involving Greatfather Winter angrily encountering a group of goblins that were set on commercializing the holiday for their own profit. Afterwards, a band of carolers took the stage and brilliantly belted out several favorite festival tunes. When they were done, they threw candies and other treats out into the eager crowd.

The concert organizers knew that Jul'zad would be the highlight, so they wisely placed his performance at the end of the program. This drove the fangirls mad. They wanted to completely skip dinner and cut right to dessert.

But oh, what a sweet dessert he was, and well worth the wait. After an hour of assorted holiday routines, Jul'zad finally took the stage. The other performers cleared a path in a reverent sort of way, and the dead silence in the amphitheatre was deafening. He slowly mounted the stairs with a shy demeanor. It was always his modesty that drove the women wild.

Within his grasp, the polished bone neck of the nyckelharpa gleamed in the flickering firelight, its horsetooth keys like polished marble. His orc assistant took a place backstage on a stool, clutching a large termite-bored didgeridoo.

Ticonderoga leaned forward in her seat. She didn't want to miss a note. She stared at Jul'zad; he truly was unlike any other troll she had ever seen. He didn't have the traditional ratty unkempt trollish hair. It was black as ink and equally as liquid as it fell down his back and around his pointed ears. Many believed he might have some night elf blood in him, just enough to slightly soften his features. Or perhaps he simply knew proper grooming techniques. Ticonderoga didn't care what he was. All she knew was that he was truly beautiful.

Jul'zad sat cross-legged center stage with his head bowed and the nyckelharpa resting his lap. The orc began crooning on the didgeridoo, the haunting drone reverberating throughout the theatre. The troll raised his eyes to the audience and inwardly smiled at the riveted stares of the women.

He was dressed in a long tribal kilt decorated with beads in a variety of geometric patterns. His wrists and biceps were encircled with bands of supple leather, on which there were fire-branded designs. He was shirtless, but the majority of his chest was covered by a broad collar made of decorated porcupine quills. A small section of his hair was tied back with a large swoop feather and a string of beads, and he had several decorative rings embellishing his long tusks.

Off to the side, a pair of young troll girls giggled uncontrollably.

The warble of the didgeridoo continued on, lifting into the night air, and Jul'zad positioned the _harpa_ against his body, angling it outwards slightly with the sling around his neck and shoulders. He held it gently, as if he was bending over a lover. Ticonderoga was dying to be his instrument.

He put rosin on his bow once more...and then proceeded to play. He sang as he drew the bow back and forth, back and forth, his voice delicately lilting with the words. He swayed his body as he depressed the keys, his subtle movements synchronized with the changing pitch of the strings. He was singing a very solemn winter poem, one that entailed a hunter that had to leave his family to hunt for a holiday meal but never returned. It was heart-wrenching, and before long, he could see the eyes of the audience glistening.

His rising and falling voice was deep; Ticonderoga felt as though she was draped with velvet night when his song reached her. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth to his sound...when she opened her eyes, she was startled to see that he was staring directly at her. She blinked as he watched her through the licking flames of the bonfire, still pulling his bow across the stiff strings. The corners of his mouth rose slightly. Seductively. Was he smiling at _her_? It had to be her imagination.

The song ended on one last long somber note, and Jul'zad got to his feet. Several more orcs ascended the stage with a set of hand drums and a tambourine-like_ riq_. They fired up into a thrumming clannish beat...

Suddenly, Jul'zad flung himself forward and thrust his feet into the air. He walked on his hands several feet to the edge of the stage, where he swayed and twisted. He tucked his legs to his chest and whirled about, his thick fingers clenching and flexing on the splintering wood. He reached down with his bare toes and picked up his _harpa_, then lifted it up. Positioning it just so across his chest, he continued to balance on his hands and rake his tusks across the strings as he pressed the keys with his toes. The ornamented ivory caught on the strings in a plucking pattern, quite a different sound from the previous silky sweeps of the bow. It was a bouncier, cheerier melody.

Ticonderoga found herself laughing and clapping at the impressive acrobatic display. She was never disappointed by him. When the jovial tune was through, Jul'zad was met with a standing ovation. He stood upright and raised the _harpa_ into the air in thanks. Leaving his screaming fans wanting more, always wanting more, he turned and exited the arena.

-----

Ticonderoga was in a daze as she headed back to the inn. It was a cold night and her bearskin mantle was providing little warmth. She didn't particularly care though, for Jul'zad's performance had left her cheeks pink with heat. This was impressive, considering she was undead.

She made her way through The Drag to see which shops were still open, for she was in the mood to buy something. It was dark in the covered alley, the only light coming from the smoldering glow of the upstairs dwellings. She had wanted to purchase a Jul'zad souvenir, but the cart was overwhelmed after the show and there was no way she would have been able to push past all the squealing adolescents.

She sighed and continued on her way, staring at the ground as she walked towards the Valley of Strength. A hooded silhouette of someone sitting on a barrel caught her attention; she paused, and the stranger noticed her. There was a clacking of beads as he shifted position.

"Greetings, mon," came a voice, leisurely and dark as molasses.

Ticonderoga coughed. "I'm, er…not a man. But hello in any case."

The stranger rose and approached. "Apologies…it's always hard to see anything in this damned dark alley." He paused, and a smile could be heard on his voice. "You were at my show tonight."

The undead girl froze, completely speechless. _Impossible_.

Jul'zad reached up and pulled his suede hood back. "I had to escape that crowd," he said, motioning back towards the Valley of Honor. "Bunch of vultures in there. Likely to lose an eye. Or something else. If you know what I mean."

Ticonderoga finally found her voice. "You actually remember seeing me? How…?"

"You were feelin' the music like I do, sweetheart. The rest of those girls were just screamin' 'til they were more purple than night elves."

There was another rush of dead blood to her cheeks.

"Where you stayin' tonight?" the profound, glassy voice asked. "I'll walk you."

Ticonderoga felt like passing out, but attempted to make conversation. "The inn. I..um…wasn't able to make it to the souvenir cart to help support you. You're right; they're a bunch of vultures."

"That's too bad," Jul'zad murmured. "That's money I could have used to buy us a bottle of wine to share." He sighed in feigned disappointment. "Looks like you're buying."

She looked up at him in shock. "You can't be serious! You're…you're _famous_. Famous people don't associate with random…ordinary…women..."

The troll stopped her. "Why the hell not?"

Ticonderoga could do nothing but shake her head.

"I'll keep the company of whomever I damn well please. To the inn we go, then."

Jul'zad kept his hood up as they entered the establishment. They had beaten the crowds back, but he needed to order quickly. He requested two bottles of agave spirits be sent to his suite on the top floor, then instructed Ticonderoga to follow him.


	2. Chapter 2

The master suite was enormous. Ticonderoga had no idea that this room was even in the inn. Apparently only those individuals that could afford it were privy to its existence. It was richly decorated with beautiful exotic window dressings. Gold and crimson silk fabric swayed in the quiet night breeze, and Jul'zad threw his cloak onto the antler-frame bed before strolling out to the balcony.

"Come look at this view," he beckoned cordially.

Ticonderoga stood apprehensively in the entryway. This was too unreal. She was feeling ill at ease about her dream come true, but she couldn't understand why. Some things you just don't expect to happen, no matter how hard you wish for them.

Jul'zad leisurely leaned against the polished wood railing outside and looked over his bare shoulder at her. His black hair carried on the breeze, streaming back to reveal his shaded coppery eyes. "Come on out."

The undead girl's own eyes glowed anxiously, and she tightened her purple lips. She wondered if he was purposely being as saucy as he was, or if it was just in his nature. Pulling the bearskin around her shoulders, she moved out onto the balcony beside him. He smiled at her, his lips pulling up away from white teeth. Ticonderoga idly noticed how hygienic he was. He certainly didn't smell like a typical troll; the soft scent of unusual spice warmly drifted from him.

Someone knocked on the door. "Yes," Jul'zad called. An elaborately dressed orc woman entered, carrying a tray with two wine flutes and two bottles of agave. She quietly laid them on the bedside table, bowed curtly, and exited. The troll smiled thankfully and strode to retrieve them.

"This," he said fondly, "is my favorite indulgence. But it's not meant to be indulged in alone." He poured the liquid gold into each of the glasses and returned to the balcony. Ticonderoga stiffened as he approached. This did not escape him. "What is it?" he asked.

She gave a short nervous laugh. "I have to admit. This is pretty…odd."

"How so? Can't two people just have a nice evenin' together? This is the eve of the Winter Veil, after all. Nobody should have to spend it alone."

"I really have no argument against that." Ticonderoga couldn't believe that he didn't see the absurdity in all this. She was startled when he suddenly set his glass down with a _plink_ and stared at her incredulously.

"I haven't even asked your name," he realized.

She giggled. "Does it really matter?"

"It wouldn't be fair. You know _my_ name."

"Everyone knows your name. Besides, a little mystery will keep you on your toes," she teased. Nodding out over the railing, she added, "You were showing me the view?"

Jul'zad handed her a glass of agave. "I was."

From the top of the inn, the entire Valley of Strength could be seen in panorama. The buildings and landscape features looked breathtaking in the starlight. The holiday decorations flickered in the shadows, casting red, green, and white accents against the rustic edifices. Overhead, the constellations were bright signals of inspiration in the cool black.

"So what makes you think I would have been spending the Winter Veil by myself?" Ticonderoga inquired. Jul'zad shrugged and sipped from his glass.

"I didn't know for sure," he replied. "But it was pretty apparent that you were the only one at the holiday concert that was not there with family."

Ticonderoga blinked. "I didn't realize that was so obvious," she muttered as she downed her entire glass of agave. She pondered the remnants of the drink in the bottom, then said coldly: "My family is still alive." She spat it as if she was the one that was alive and they were dead. Jul'zad moved into her peripheral vision as she continued to gaze into the wine flute. A large hand tightened on her shoulder.

"'Tis the holiday season," he whispered matter-of-factly, his tall form bending close to her ear. "Let's not dwell on sorrows. Not tonight." His mouth lingered close, lips slightly parted so that his breath drifted across the thin pallid skin of her neck.

Ticonderoga's eyes closed for a moment. It had been so long since she had felt warmth in certain regions of her body; so many sensations she had forgotten about. The agave was also taking its toll on her, making her dizzy. She had drunk it way too quickly, and was rather annoyed the troll hadn't warned against that. Finding herself swaying towards him, she put a hand on his bare arm to steady herself. He chuckled.

"Slammed that stuff back a little too hard, did we? Would you like to try again? I'll pour you more and you can take your time."

The undead girl had no objections, and was beginning to think more and more that maybe this wasn't so bizarre after all. Jul'zad refilled her glass, then held it out to her. She reached for it, and he immediately held it high above her head.

"Ah, ah, ah," he taunted. "Tell me your name and I'll give this to you."

Ticonderoga sighed. "No, I'm not giving you my name. I'm not giving you my name, because, I mean, what…are we going to become _friends_ or something? Close acquaintances? Are we going to be spending a lot of time together in the future—"

Jul'zad cut off her dubious rambling. "—maybe."

"Right," she countered sardonically. "A popular icon like you is going to find extra time for a random woman he picked up off the street one evening." She took the glass from him. This time, she slowly sipped from it.

A hurt ripple crossed his face, and clutched his own glass tightly. "I think you have the wrong idea about me."

"Oh?"

"Picking up 'random women' off the street isn't somethin' I do regularly," he argued. This time, it was he that quickly drank down the agave. He squeezed his eyes shut and held the banister as the expected wave of dizziness passed over him. Ticonderoga bit her lip, and he continued.

"Think about it. If I was as…" he searched for the proper word, "…_boorish_ as you believe me to be, do you really think I would have been spendin' tonight alone as well? If you had never come up here, it would have been just me. Bein' just as alone as you might have been. I wanted company, and it seemed as though you did as well."

Ticonderoga sighed. "We're both out of agave again," she noticed.

Jul'zad's face lit up with amusement and eagerly filled their glasses again. "I know it's a little late, but…shall we make a toast?" He raised his glass and so did she. Before he could make a salute, Ticonderoga said, "To not being alone."

"Hear hear," he agreed. They touched glasses and savored the rich liquor once again. Neither had anything to say at the moment, so a long awkward silence passed between them. Ticonderoga finally decided that must be the end and three glasses was enough. The fantasy was clearly coming to its end.

"Thank you for the evening, Jul'zad."

His face fell. "You're leavin' already? I'm sorry you are." He was almost pouting.

She bashfully moved towards the entryway and reached for the door handle. The troll cleared his throat loudly, and she paused. "What is it?"

Looking back, she saw him standing smartly with his hands clasped behind his back. On his face was an ill-behaved grin that struck a small twinge of fear into her heart. "...What?" she asked again. She watched as his eyes looked upward and focused on a point above her head. Ticonderoga looked up as well.

There, dangling directly above her from the low ceiling beam, was an ornate spray of mistletoe wrapped in red silk ribbon. Her jaw dropped, and Jul'zad let forth the unmistakable throaty cackle of a troll. She stared at him in complete shock.

"Happy Winter Veil," he said plainly. He approached her then, and Ticonderoga's eyes widened in trepidation upon seeing the hopeful expression on his face. His confidence captivated her, and she stepped towards him in a rather detached manner.

"No, no, no," he chided, pushing her back under the mistletoe. He loomed over her, still dwarfing her petite shape in spite of his hunched posture. She tentatively reached up and entangled her fingers, sharp as barbs and devoid of flesh, into his fine tendrils of obsidian hair.

"How are you not disgusted by me?" she suddenly asked.

Never taking his eyes off hers, he lifted her wrist to his mouth. "You forget that we trolls were once cannibals," he murmured against her gaunt skin.

She laughed. "So we have something in common after all." Too distracted with him nuzzling her wrist, she didn't notice the other arm coming around behind her waist. Abruptly she was up against him, a powerful heat radiating from his body. He was looking down at her, still holding her wrist. Delicately, he laid her hand across the back of his neck.

Ticonderoga didn't dare move; she continued to gape wide-eyed up at him, and before she could really decide whether she should obligate mistletoe tradition or not, he had already made the decision for her.

Jul'zad exhaled longingly as he bent to engulf her open breathless lips with his own.

Her heart almost exploded from her frail chest as he kissed her. Involuntarily, her fingers wrapped in his hair clenched into a fist. This spurred him further, and he delved past her lips with his tongue. He eagerly ran the tip of it along the roof of her mouth, and her knees weakened. He caught her as she sank, and with no further hesitation, lifted her up and carried her to the enormous elegant bed, never breaking the kiss.

"I know it's only the eve of the Winter Veil," he breathed tensely. "But I'd like to open my present early." He encircled her in his arms.

Ticonderoga's mind was screaming with disbelief. Her inhibitions were now totally gone thanks to the alcohol, but she still had a small function of reason. She shrugged to herself. If anything, she could tell all of her friends that she slept with _the_ Jul'zad. Not that they would believe her.

"A toast," she gasped into his intricately decorated ear, "to not being alone."

The only sound coming from the inn that holiday night was the clattering jangle of beads.

**THE END**


End file.
